Empire Rising es-2

by Sam Barone

  By the time they reached Akkad, the sun had started to touch the horizon, marking the end of a long day of fighting and running. Hathor, growing weaker with each step of his horse, remembered moving through streets and lanes already lit by torches and filled with revelers. People shouted and cheered at the sight of Bantor and his riders. That turned into a roar of approval as one of the soldiers reached down and lifted Ariamus’s head into view, its mouth hanging slack in the torchlight.

  Some Akkadians even recognized Hathor, and yelled curses in his direction. Bantor’s men kept them away, and the soldiers led him back to Korthac’s house. When the soldiers pulled him down from the horse, Hathor was unable to stand, and he fell to the ground, helpless. Laughing, the soldiers lifted him and carried him to one of the soldiers’ rooms across from the main house. Hathor, filled with shame and weakened from loss of blood, had collapsed, grateful only for the end of the punishing ride. His hands still tied in front of him, the celebrating soldiers dropped him to the floor and went off to join the festivities. The celebrations went on and on, long into the night, while Hathor lay in the dirt, fi ghting the throbbing in his leg and contemplating the torture that awaited him.

  When he woke, not sure if he’d fallen asleep or passed out from the pain, Hathor found a yawning guard watching him, outlined against a low fire in its dying throes burning in the courtyard. Twisting his head, Hathor caught a glimpse of the night sky, and realized dawn approached. At first he couldn’t believe that he’d slept through most of the night, but his wound must have exhausted him more than he realized. The coming dawn explained the silence surrounding the house, and the city; the inhabitants must have celebrated their liberation long into the night, before finally returning to their beds; aside from the occasional crackling of the fire, Hathor heard nothing.

  The sky began to lighten, and thoughts of what the day would bring shook the last remnant of sleep from Hathor’s mind. Today would be the last day of his life. In a few hours the torture would begin. Today he would die. The laughter, the jeers of the onlookers, would fill his ears as they enjoyed the spectacle of his torment. Hathor would make every effort to be strong, but he knew a wounded man rarely kept his courage and his strength. The pain they would inflict would join with that already flaring in his leg, and he would soon beg for mercy. The torture would increase, until he begged them to kill him. They wouldn’t, of course, and that would make the pain and humiliation truly unbearable.

  The courtyard fire died out, but moments later the first rays of the sun brushed aside the last of the darkness. Hathor swallowed, his throat dry again, as he attempted to prepare himself for the ordeal to come. The household stirred, with people getting up and about. He heard someone moaning, a low sound he could barely detect. He struggled to sit up, finally leaning his back against the wall, facing the doorway and the soldier watching him. The low, murmuring sound continued, and Hathor realized it had been going on for some time.

  “Who’s that?” he muttered at the guard, a dry rasp in his throat.

  The guard, who’d sat there watching him without expression, broke into a smirk. “That’s Korthac, your leader. He’s in the room next to yours.

  You two are the last Egyptians alive in Akkad.”

  The words sent another tremor through him. If Korthac was already unable to control his pain, Hathor, too, would soon be screaming for death.

  Which of us, he wondered, would scream louder?

  When Eskkar woke, the morning sun had already climbed well over the horizon. He’d slept in fits and snatches during the night, despite the tiredness in his body. The tension of the last few days couldn’t be erased in a single night. Celebrating citizens and soldiers had filled the streets, shouting, drinking, and singing for much of the nighttime hours. The unusual noises had troubled him. The middle of the night had long passed before Eskkar finally fell into a deep sleep. Then he slept right through sunup, waking to the sound of a baby crying for its mother.

  He hadn’t wanted to disturb Trella and the child; he’d slept in the outer room, on a blanket. Trella and the baby slept together, both under the watchful eye of Drusala, who apparently stayed awake throughout the night. As she’d explained to Eskkar earlier, because Sargon came before his time, he needed to be watched constantly.

  Entering the bedroom with a yawn, he found Trella nursing the babe.

  He put his arm around her shoulders, and felt a thrill when she leaned against him, then reached up and touched his cheek.

  “You look terrible, husband,” she said, her voice still weak. “Your face…”

  Korthac’s fists had bruised and bloodied Eskkar’s face, leaving it swollen and covered with scratches. He could only imagine what he looked like.

  “You look beautiful, wife,” he answered. She smiled at him, the way she always did when he told her how beautiful she was. “How is the pain?”

  “Better. But I feel so weak, like I could sleep the whole day.” She touched the infant at her breast. “But Sargon has other ideas.”

  “So I see.”

  Annok-sur arrived, a bandage wrapped around her head, carrying breakfast for them both.

  “Gatus is looking for you, Eskkar,” she informed him, setting the tray down on the bed. “He wants to know if you plan to sleep the whole day away. You should eat something now, before he takes up all your time.”

  “I’d better go see what he wants,” Eskkar said. “I’ll come back as soon as I can.” He tore off a hunk of bread and filled a cup with watered ale from the tray, and went downstairs. By the time he reached the courtyard, the cup was empty.

  Eskkar found Gatus sitting at the head of the table, hard at work. Apparently the captain of the guard had taken his post well before sunrise.

  “About time you woke up and got to work,” Gatus said. “You look terrible. How are you feeling?”

  Eskkar sat down and helped himself to the water jug resting on the table. “Not too bad. I could use some more sleep, but there’s time for that.

  What’s happened during the night?”

  “I’ve put Klexor in command of the walls, gates, and docks,” Gatus said. “He’s to make sure no one leaves the city without our approval. Alexar took twenty men and as many horses and is already patrolling the walls, looking for any of the rabble that escaped. Mitrac is going houseto-house, searching the city and making sure none are still hiding under some old woman’s bed.”

  “We’ll have to promote them to commanders, then,” Eskkar said.

  “Already did that. Told them you’d confirm it when you finally woke up.”

  At least that was one less task to do today, Eskkar thought to himself with a smile.

  “I just sent Bantor down to the barracks,” Gatus went on. “He’s taken charge of the prisoners, those guarding them, and the horses. He’s working with Rebba and the other nobles to make sure the dead get buried.

  Too bad he had to burn the Egyptians out of the barracks. We could use the space.”

  “How’d he look?” Bantor had returned last night, with Ariamus’s body.

  Bantor hadn’t said much, just a quick report of the number of Egyptian dead, before he went to Annok-sur. They closed the door to their room, and hadn’t ventured out all night.

  “Better than he did when he got back,” Gatus said. “The look on his face could’ve shattered stones. You’d think killing Ariamus would have cheered him up.”

  Eskkar knew the story about Annok-sur, and the gods only knew what other deviltry Ariamus had done under Korthac’s protection.

  “And the wounded?” Eskkar glanced around the courtyard. The soldiers’ quarters held most of the wounded, with others put up in nearby houses. Even now, more than a half-dozen bandaged men rested in the courtyard, most of them watching Eskkar.

  “Ventor’s with them now,” Gatus said. “Got here a few moments ago.

  He’ll do what he can. Some are going to die. Those Egyptians were tough fi ghters.”

  “Korthac trained his kille
rs well,” Eskkar said, thinking that if the Egyptians were half as skillful as their master, they would indeed have made formidable fighters.

  “Only one thing left to do,” Gatus said, as he fi nished reporting. “And here they come,” he added, the distaste sounding in his voice.

  Eskkar looked up to see Corio and Rebba enter the courtyard. Corio’s right arm hung in a sling, and a large bruise covered the left side of his face. Rebba looked old and tired, but had a warm smile for everyone.

  “Good morning, Lord Eskkar,” Corio said, speaking first and in a loud voice. “Once again, let me offer praise to the gods for your return. You were sorely missed.”

  “The gods favored us, Noble Corio,” he answered, smiling at the architect’s obviously insincere words. Corio believed in the gods about as much as Eskkar did.

  “We’ve come for the usurper Korthac,” Rebba said. “We’ve been meeting at Nicar’s house with the other nobles. Nicar is still unable to get about, but he sends his thanks and his greetings, as do the others.”

  “And Korthac?…” Eskkar looked at Rebba.

  “Unless you want the pleasure of killing him yourself,” Corio said,

  “he’s to die under the torture in the marketplace, to pay for his crimes against all of us.”

  The nobles and rich merchants had suffered greatly in the last few days, Eskkar knew, and they’d lost most of whatever gold they had hoarded.

  Fortunately, Korthac had stored most of the loot right here in the house.

  Still, it would take weeks to sort it all out, and this time Eskkar would have to arbitrate the distribution. “Take Korthac whenever you want,” he said, nodding toward the guards watching the Egyptian.

  “Also, we need your soldiers to arrest the others,” Corio interrupted, “the men who joined up with Korthac, who willingly took part in his schemes.”

  “And what’s to become of them?”

  “They’re to die with their leader, curse them all,” Corio answered.

  “They deserve to take the torture, but I’ll be satisfied just to see them all dead.”

  Eskkar had never seen the master builder in such a bloodthirsty mood.

  “And Nicar, and you, Rebba, you all agree to this?”

  Rebba nodded. “We spent most of yesterday arguing over their fates.

  Five are to die, their property confiscated. Another seven will have their property taken, and then be exiled from Akkad.”

  More blood to be shed, Eskkar thought. For this decision, however, there was no urgency. “Gatus, have your men take these… twelve men prisoner.

  Send them down to the barracks and tell Bantor to guard them well.”

  He turned to Corio. “In a few days, when Trella is well enough, we’ll review the charges against these men.”

  Both men started to protest, but Eskkar cut them off. “There’s no need to rush their punishment. Better to let them worry about their fate, while we make sure each one gets exactly what he deserves. Remember, Trella was here, and she heard every word Korthac said. She’ll know who merits what punishment.”

  Eskkar stood and faced Gatus, who’d remained expressionless during the discussion. “Round up those twelve. Then take charge of Korthac and make sure he gets to the marketplace. The sooner he begins his journey to the underworld, the better.”

  “What about the other one, that Hathor?”

  “Him, too,” Eskkar said. “All the Egyptians deserve the torture.”

  Gatus stood as well. “Let’s go, Corio. The sooner we catch up with the men on your list, the happier we’ll both be.”

  Eskkar left the table and walked over to check on Korthac. The man looked even worse today than he had yesterday. Korthac glared at him, but said nothing. Eskkar glanced in on Hathor, but had nothing to say to the Egyptian subcommander. He didn’t know the man, and hadn’t encountered him during the fight. But he’d fled with Ariamus, and that alone was enough to condemn him.

  As he turned away from Hathor, Mitrac and a few others from the Hawk Clan entered the courtyard. They surrounded Eskkar, eager for news and equally eager to tell him what they’d accomplished. Eskkar spoke with them for some time, answering questions, laughing, and listening to the latest rumors from the streets.

  They left him, still laughing, proud men who knew they’d won a great victory. Ignoring the other activity around him, Eskkar washed himself at the well, then visited the kitchen to find something more to eat. His appetite had returned, a good sign, he knew. He leaned against the wall, out of the way of the cook, and munched on some bread and sausage, enjoying the idle moment.

  “Lord, Lady Trella asks for you.”

  He turned to see Drusala bowing to him. “Is everything all right?”

  “Oh, yes, lord, but she asked if you could attend her.”

  Wiping his fingers on his tunic, he climbed the stairs, Drusala following behind. But she stopped at the landing, and shut the door as soon as he passed through. Surprised, Eskkar crossed the empty workroom and entered the bedroom.

  Annok-sur waited there, along with another woman, a young girl, really, her plain face marred by a broken nose. Eskkar had to stare at her for a moment before he recognized her, the girl Trella had rescued and brought to the house a few days before he’d left for Bisitun.

  Trella sat up in the bed, the baby asleep beside her. “Eskkar, we have a favor to ask of you, a very great favor.” She kept her voice soft, so as not to waken the child.

  Trella’s use of “we” warned him something unusual was coming. He looked closer at the girl, struggling to remember her name.

  “This is En-hedu,” Trella went on, “soon to be wife to Tammuz. At least, as soon as we set her free from her servitude.”

  En-hedu bowed deeply to him, but said nothing. When she lifted her head, he saw the worry in her face.

  “Tammuz… Gatus told me he’d taken a woman.”

  “I gave En-hedu to Tammuz more than a month ago. She’s been helping him all that time. They both risked their lives, trying to learn more about Korthac. They helped hide Gatus, and she and Tammuz both fought in the battle against Korthac.”

  “Then you have my thanks, En-hedu,” Eskkar said, bowing his head to her.

  “I will tell you all about it later, husband,” Trella said, “but for now, En-hedu wishes to ask a favor.”

  En-hedu bowed again, her hands clenched together nervously. “Lord, please, can you spare the life of the Egyptian Hathor? He saved my life and the life of Tammuz as well. We would both be dead if he hadn’t spared us.”

  “Hathor is to die with Korthac,” Eskkar said, shock and surprise in his voice. “He was one of Korthac’s subcommanders… he escaped with Ariamus.”

  “Hathor came from the desert with Korthac, it’s true,” Annok-sur said.

  “But I didn’t see him kill or do injury to anyone here in Akkad.”

  “Please, lord,” En-hedu rushed the words, “his men would have killed Tammuz and myself. Hathor stayed his hand against us. Can you not spare his life for that?”

  “What does Tammuz say?” Eskkar asked. “Does he want this man to live?”

  “Yes, Lord Eskkar,” En-hedu said, “but he will not ask for Hathor’s life.

  He is too loyal to you and Lady Trella.”

  “In serving Korthac, who knows how many evil deeds Hathor may have accomplished in the past. He may have…”

  Trella dropped her eyes, and Eskkar’s voice trailed off. Without saying anything, she reminded him of another who had done things in the past, things better forgotten.

  “No one has accused Hathor of evil deeds,” Annok-sur said, filling in the silence.

  “Not yet,” Eskkar countered. “Today, in the marketplace, I’m sure many will come forth to confront him.” He shook his head. “Still, I have no quarrel with him. He can spend the rest of his days as a slave, working on the wall.”

  “When Korthac amused himself at my expense,” Trella said, “Hathor was the only one who looked away. He did not t
ake pleasure in my suffering.”

  Her words told him she wanted Hathor to live, and not as a slave.

  “Perhaps there is another way,” Trella continued. “Perhaps you can make use of him.”

  “Use him?”

  “You always say how you look for men who can command. Hathor is one such. Even Korthac thought so. With Korthac gone and the rest of the Egyptians dead, Hathor has no one else to turn to. In Akkad, every man’s hand will be against him. Such a man might prove useful to you, Eskkar, if you held his loyalty.”

  Eskkar looked from one woman to the other. Annok-sur nodded slightly, to show her approval; En-hedu’s lip trembled as she watched him, as if fearful of an outburst of anger.

  Trella stroked little Sargon, tracing his cheek with her finger for a moment, then lifting her eyes to Eskkar’s. “It is something to think about, husband. There is no rush to put him to death.”

  As always, she gave him time to make up his mind, to think things through in his own way.

  “I’ll consider it,” he answered. “Is there anything else?”

  “No, nothing. You’ll do what’s best.”

  The words sounded humble, but he caught the gleam in her eye.

  “But perhaps it would be good to speak to him yourself,” Trella added.

  “Can you have him brought here?”

  “Up here? Now?” He regretted the words the moment he uttered them. He knew Trella too well. Once she made up her mind, she always acted quickly.

  “I can have him brought up, Lord Eskkar,” Annok-sur offered.

  Now Bantor’s wife was calling him “lord.”

  “No, I’ll bring him.” Eskkar needed the time to think, and he certainly wasn’t going to win any arguments here, not with the three of them united against him. Shaking his head, he turned and left the room, wondering what they would say with him gone.

  In the courtyard, the command table stood empty. He knew Gatus had gone with the council members to gather up the traitors.

  Eskkar walked over to the guards. He nodded to the one watching Hathor, and ducked his head as he entered inside.